


about that one fic...

by ChronicCanon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Knows, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Beards (Relationships), Closeted Character, F/F, F/M, Growing Up, Humor, Identity Issues, Identity Reveal, Introspection, It's been 6 years since they got their miraculouses, Lesbian Chloé Bourgeois, Light Angst, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, Partial Identity Reveal, Phone Calls & Telephones, Slow Burn, Some Cursing, assume these characters are bi or pan unless otherwise stated, glass closets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2019-08-19 02:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16525331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicCanon/pseuds/ChronicCanon
Summary: Alya wishes she could go back to before she wrote that fic of Ladybug.And all the other ones she wrote after that.She has probably learned her lesson with that whole "real person fiction" thing.





	1. you dun goofed

It started with a phone conversation, and Alya would later kick herself for falling for one of the tropes she liked to use the most.

See, the thing was (as she would later justify to herself) that the Ladyblog was generously popular as it was, but she kept getting requests online for fanfic recommendations. Naturally, being the inquisitive webmaster she was, she would diligently scour the depths of the internet, going to like the 2nd page of the most popular search results, and give recommendations.  _That_ post got pretty popular, and Alya realized it was a decent spike in popularity.

Actually, it was a  _big_ spike in popularity, and it _kept_ that popularity - how did she not think of this  _earlier_?

Alya couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for recommending fics without actually reading beyond the tags and summaries at first, so she decided she would try to really do something she felt was more authentic. She would recommend fics she actually read this time, trying to support new authors with good ideas and decent intentions - and so her next round of fanfic recommendations, like the first, really helped the Ladyblog gain that extra bit of traction she really was hoping for.

This went on for about two weeks, with a good batch of recs every few days, and she realized there weren't as many SFW fanfics of Paris's favorite superheroes as she thought. In fact, once she turned off the SFW filter, she realized she'd been completely missing out on some of the most popular of fics. It was a bit unsettling, all things considering, but once the novelty of the new "Fic Recs" section of the Ladyblog died down, she realized she might have to delve into some of the spicier fics if she really wanted to keep things up.

So.

She didn't do that.

Instead, Alya decided she would go the hardass way out and write some of her own fics - fluff, hurt/comfort, whatever she thought was lacking in that batch. Granted, she didn't think she was that great, but she lived for any nice comments all the same. And she needed some fodder for the fic rec lists. She  _wanted_ those views.

This wasn't super sustainable, as Alya soon found she was running out of prompts she liked to write, and it was all pretty time consuming.

So she decided she would ask for help. And what was a better lifeline that phoning a friend?

-

"Hi, Alya!"

"Hey, Marinette!"

Oh boy. How was Alya going to even approach this topic? She twirled her hair and stared at the door - closed and locked, as usual during her Ladyblog Update Sessions.  _Hey Marinette, love of my life, bestie dearest, let's talk about fanfiction and be merry._ Fat chance. She wouldn't be able to really say very much if she stalled for too long.

She might as well jump into the deep end if that's where things were headed.

"So what do you think of the new addition to the Ladyblog, girl?"

Well, at this point, Marinette was well versed in the internet, and had been Ladybug for a few years now. She knew about the kind of stuff people would write about her. It was a bit unsettling, somewhere between flattery and dissociation of her own self from an idol that grew beyond her own persona. So there were a few things she could say she thought. It was maybe a loaded topic, actually.

Some of these people were genuinely good writers, sure, but she didn't like scrolling through tags and thinking about how so many people imagined exploits of the more risqué kind she was (still not yet) involved with. Or, more accurately, scrolling through daring tales of her presence in people's collective internet consciousness of her's exploits? It was a little weird and she tried not to think about it.

It was maybe something she didn't need haunting her at night. Maybe. Like, did people want Ladybug or was Ladybug just the default? And did people want to tell stories and just not have the right characters to do it, so they opted to use characters that were already recognized and established, but they just happened to be real superheroes? Or, like -

Wait, Alya was still on the phone. Waiting for her answer. Jesus. She needed to say something.

"Uh, what new addition?"

Gosh, Marinette really could have said  _not that_.

She could feel Alya's spirits shift from half an arrondissement away. She didn't need any empath powers to tell that Alya was a bit upset Marinette didn't just right away into this topic, but granted, it was a little bit embarrassing to admit to her friend that she had been reading and even writing a whole slew of fanfics just for the sake of internet popularity.

But Alya really wanted that good good internet hegemony, so she pressed on.

"Well, in any case, for the sake of that good good internet hegemony I've been recommending fanfics and the recs have been  _blowing up_! This is great for the Ladyblog and all but there's just so much stuff to sort through!"

Oh no, Marinette could see her life flashing before her very eyes. What was coming next? She'd seen what Alya had been posting. Of course she had! She needed to support her friend and her blog. It was her sacred duty! But also Marinette really didn't want to read about people's fantasies and their renditions of something she hadn't even done before... And she could tell her friend's writing style after she realized how many times one author in particular had showed up in the past week or so, who'd gotten a new account about a week ago. Marinette truly was a master of deduction the likes of which this world had never seen before. It was times like these that she knew Chat Noir could never have been someone who even lived in Paris or else of course she would have known whomst he was. She was a perfect logician.

Alya gave her request.

"I was kind of hoping I could get your help. Nothing too crazy or anything! Just, if you could maybe recommend any to me, or maybe you could give me writing prompts or help me bounce ideas off you, that would be great! I'd really appreciate it."

Marinette sighed. She could have been dead yet here she was.

Wait, no, that still wasn't good. Her best friend was asking her to read porn. Shit! Wait, no - or fluff! Or angst. There were many options. But Marinette feared the porn the most.

Oh, no. Was Alya going to - no, she couldn't -

But -

She could?

"Alya, I'm not super sure I'm comfortable with this?"

But all of the fics Alya had been recommending had been safe for work, so Marinette wondered if perhaps it was just her who was jumping off the deep end a little bit unprompted.

"Oh. Sorry I brought it up, then!"

Great. Now Alya wished she could astral project and physically manifest to kick herself in the ass for making her best friend feel uncomfortable.

"Well," Marinette started, "I guess it wouldn't be too horrible if I helped you brainstorm. I know how much the Ladyblog means to you, and you know I want to help when I can, but only if you keep it, um, not explicit, I guess."

Alya grinned. "Thanks! But, are you sure you're fine with it? I'm not going to creep you out or anything?"

"I mean, you might," Marinette let out a nervous laugh, "But I'll just tell you and we can kind of forgo that whole nonsense."

"Okay, but you  _tell_ me if anything's not okay. You'll be a good filter for the Ladyblog, too! What works, what's too much, all that fun stuff. Is that okay?"

Marinette definitely noticed Tikki's disapproving, knowing face but she was too busy freaking out and staring into middle distance to care as she simply said, "Yep."

-

The next day, as Marinette left her class, headed towards the studio, she got a few texts from Alya, asking if she could free up some time to read her latest creation.

 **Alya <3** : prep yourself for some unrequited Ladybug/Rena Rouge H/C coffee shop AU

Marinette was going to literally die. She would become quite dead. Very no longer alive. All of the dead.

 **Alya <3** : with background Rena Rouge/Carapace

Oh, every fuck. Those holy and those unholiest.

A car zoomed past Marinette, horn blaring. Uh oh. She needed to watch the road or else she might become actually, real dead.

"Sorry!" she called from the corner of the sidewalk. She kept doing that, walking without paying attention to the world around her, lost in her world of thought, didn't she?

 **Marinette <3** : is it

 **Marinette <3** : porn

 **Marinette <3** : none of that please

 **Alya <3** : :( no, it's not porn.

 **Alya <3** : general audiences means the kiddos can click! and it'll be something I can feel less morally bad about!

 **Alya <3** : and you know how much I want to protect the kiddos

 **Alya <3** : I know how tricky my little sisters can be online

 **Alya <3** : they just want to read everything

 **Marinette <3** : do you really want to protect the kids because I thought you said you wanted that good good internet hegemony

 **Alya <3** : okay >:(

 **Alya <3** : I may or may not have many things I want here

 **Alya <3** : but are you fine with reading it to make sure nothing is too horribly ooc?

 **Alya <3** : I'm still young and dumb and suck at writing

 **Marinette <3** : Alya don't you have a successful blog you write and have written for years and also an internship at one of the biggest news outlets in Paris because they think you can write

 **Alya <3** : yes

 **Alya <3** : what you say is true

 **Alya <3** : but have you considered

 **Alya <3** : ... i just haven't been writing fanfics for very long and they're not journalism so they require actual creativity and stuff instead of just reporting the facts

 **Marinette <3** : :/

 **Alya <3** : :/

 **Marinette <3** : yes, of course I'll read it. <3

 **Alya <3** : OwO

 **Marinette <3** : jesus christ never do that again

 **Alya <3** : you're the best, girl 0u0

 **Marinette <3** : I mean, technically I guess you didn't repeat it but it still hurts my soul in quite a similar way

 **Alya <3** : it's because it's uwu adjacent

 **Marinette <3** : :(

 **Alya <3** : check your email

 **Marinette <3** : :)


	2. in which mistakes just keep being made

Marinette was in a peculiar position.

She had been in that peculiar position for a majority of high school, and all of college so far.

While Marinette herself had never actually gone on any real dates, or confessed to anyone, her superhero alter ego built up over the years had quickly become... a cultural icon heavily reinforced into the collective consciousness of Paris? It was a lot. Sure, that was part of her job, but, it was a lot.

She'd had plenty of friends in high school who had open crushes on Ladybug, like Alya, of course, as well as Chloe. Granted, once Alya realized who Carapace was, like two seconds into his heroic debut, she did stop mentioning it so openly, opting to tell her friends to "Stan Carapace!" But that whole period before then was still fresh to Marinette. You know, because her best friend basically had a crush on her? Yeah.

Of course, Marinette was super flattered! If she wasn't so into Adrien back then, she was fairly sure she and Alya would definitely have ended up dating.

But, like, Marinette didn't go online and write Ladybug fanfic. Wow.  _That_ 's a weird thought.

She reached for the door to the building that housed the little studio she had been renting out. Wait, why wasn't it opening?

"Marinette!"

Tikki tapped her on the arm. Rather, she had been tapping Marinette on the arm and trying to call her attention for maybe a few city blocks by that point. Marinette had been completely engrossed in her thoughts and was too busy reading and worrying about the fic on her phone, that she hand't even realized.

"Oh, what? Sorry, Tikki!" Marinette sighed. "What's up?"

"Are you really okay with this? You seem really distracted and I hope this doesn't interfere with your duties as Ladybug."

Marinette frowned. "I'm fine with it, but you know I would never put something ahead of that."

"Marinette, you've been clicking that pen in your hand for the entirety of the walk here, and it's a 20 minute walk."

"I _have_?"

Tikki gave a little huff.

"No! Because you only use pencils in class, or your tablet's stylus. You aren't even holding a pen but you didn't have the attention to yourself and your surroundings to know that.  _That_ 's the problem here."

Marinette scowled as she looked down at what she was really clutching, the keys to her studio. She opened the door and started making her way up the narrow stairway.

“Tikki, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t let this get to me. It just feels like something bigger than it probably actually is.”

“You could just tell Alya you don’t want to do this.”

”I feel like I need to, though!” Marinette clenched her fingers around the keys tighter. “It’s been 2 years since high school already and we’re both so busy we barely even get to talk to each other, let alone see each other face to face. She was my best friend and I don’t want to let her go.”

She unlocked the studio door. It was the only one on the top floor that was rented out because the top of the building tapered out, making the rooms smaller than most of the others. She’s snagged the bigger of the two studios, which was nice, and one of the people who were renting the other space got promoted and they moved out, to probably a slightly larger but still small studio apartment.

Marinette was glad the bakery was doing well and she didn’t have to live here. It was nice, but  _small_. That was the only thing. There were well placed windows that she could climb out of and that provided a lot of good light, but it didn't do as much in the way of opening up the space as Marinette would have liked. But it was a space to store fabric and supplies and finished works and all, and that was good enough for her. She often did end up staying the night, especially when deadlines started approaching, or when she hit her stride and only finished something in the wee hours of the morning.

"And," Marinette continued, "I think it's nice for me to help her out because it also gives me something to take a break with. I can force myself to stop working and maybe even, I dunno, remember to eat and stay hydrated while I'm at it?"

Tikki flew out of Marinette's bag and came to hover in front of her eyes.

"I'm going to say this once and it's only because I want the best for you, and it’s not going to sound nice, and I’m sorry but I need to say it," Tikki explained. “I think that somewhere down the line something got messed up. Maybe being Ladybug made you grow up too fast, but right now, you’re kind of emotionally stunted.”

”What? Me?” Marinette was fairly shocked. “Unbalanced? I’d say I’m pretty well balanced, myself.” She smiled and stood on one foot.

”You’re right. That’s why you cling to your best friend from high school and do whatever she asks even if it makes you uncomfortable. And why you haven’t even taken down all of the Adrien posters from you room.”

”But,” Marinette frowned, “I still see them pretty often. It’s fine, and pretty normal to try to keep friends. Really, it’s fi-“

”Marinette, you’ve been lost in thought all day about what Alya is writing, which is about Ladybug, who being which already takes most of the time that isn’t already taken up by college, which is college. I think you’ve been really overworked lately, and you should allow yourself to admit that you’ve been working really hard and deserve a break!”

Marinette cupped her hands around Tikki, the closest thing she could get to a hug. This wasn’t the first time she’d wshed she could really envelope Tikki and feel someone near her. It wouldn’t be the last.

”I don’t know. I think everything’s fine!”

”Most of your makeup goes to covering up your eyebags.”

”I’m used to it!”

”You have a special ‘Marinette Discount’ at the café downstairs because you’re one of their best customers.”

”I like the taste.”

”You hate it.”

”Yes, but it builds character!”

”Marinette! You need to let yourself not like things and rest!”

”Sounds like giving up.”

”Marinette, this is serious! It seems like you’re the same as 6 years ago when I  _first_ met you. Marinette now is the same Marinette as before and Ladybug now is still the same Ladybug as before. You’re stuck in the same place and that’s just isn’t healthy.”

Marinette frowned, still cupping Tikki in her hands. “There isn’t anything I’m going to say that will convince you otherwise, is there?”

Tikki shook her head.

Marinette sighed.

”Then what do you want me to do about it?”

”I don’t think there _is_ anything to do about it. Nothing I can do, at least. It’s up to you.”

And with that, Marinette decided to not feel anything or think about it until she finished her assignments for the day. And read the fic.


	3. this is what happens when you run from your emotions marinette

There was little more pressing in Marinette’s mind that evening as she gazed into the brightness of the moon from her spot on her bed than Tikki's words echoing in her mind.

Sure, she's never allowed herself to be truly upset or frustrated or angry. Sure, that was maybe not super great. Sure, she felt like she was stuck in a weird mindset of seeing a lot of issues in society and not being able to fundamentally fix them or feel injustice despite being a clear witness to the effects of it constantly as Ladybug. So maybe she just didn't allow her self to feel. It happens!

And then there was the fic Alya sent her over that day.

It was weird, and a little surreal.

This was one of Alya’s works, so of course it was well-written. And she’d gotten the characterization of Ladybug spot-on. (As Alya had mentioned earlier in one of her texts, it was "to be expected, girl").

But this was the first time Alya had sent her a shippy fic and right off the bat, it was Ladybug romancing her. Well, actually, it was of Rena Rouge coming to terms with Ladybug not romancing her and Carapace comforting her and them getting together, which was cute but also _not_ accurate, but whatever. She’d claimed she had been aiming for general audiences and had been trying not to get too niche.

Regardless, she felt scared.

...

Wait. Marinette sat up in her bed, careful not to disturb Tikki, who was dozing beside her. Why scared?

She checked her phone for the time. eyes tired and dry from the brightness of the screen. Considering it was 2:43AM - wait no the time changed - 2:44AM, it only made sense.

She sighed and got out of bed. Tonight was evidently going to be one of the worse nights, when thoughts kept racing in her head and sleep seemed a distant dream. Her eyelids were heavy and she felt like a cloud of sleepiness was weighing down on her. Even so, worry coursed through her veins and her heart couldn't seem to beat heavily enough.

She just couldn't help but feel a little bit of a crisis coming along. Well, it was always there, but she'd gotten used to shoving things back in her head to deal with later. There were more important things to focus on.

But Marinette had never had time to focus on what it meant for her to be herself. Sure, it was a bit obvious, but she couldn't help but think at times like these, alone, that all she could ever see herself as was a performer.

Ladybug, the hero. So, Marinette, the actor of a hero.

That's what she'd always felt, anyway. Sure, Marinette was confident. She was confident she could do real work. But the problem was that she always existed as something outside of herself. Something she couldn't control. Something the public almost completely took over.

She lept out of bed and headed up onto the balcony. She often did this during sleepless nights. That is to say, she often did this.

Underneath a pillow on the balcony, she kept half of the result of an experiment from maybe a year and a half ago. Before then, Marinette had wondered a few things. What would happen if she called on a Lucky Charm and didn't use it? How long could that last? What would happen if she kept a really old Lucky Charm and used it to fix something if there wasn't an akuma attack? What if she didn't use the whole object because it broke or something?

She eventually got Tikki's permission and was feeling adventurous enough to let Chat Noir in on the experiment, so she'd learned a few things.

She got something that was actually pretty useful, and it could last for a while, a year and going, with normal wear and tear. She still hadn't figured out all of the answers to her other questions, but she was okay with that so far.

The thing was somewhere between a cell phone and a walkie-talkie. Aside from the faded red and black dotted pattern, it looked like a flip phone, but it could only call the other one, and could also somehow keep voice messages. It worked essentially like the communicator functions on the weapons that came with their superhero forms. It was also possibly solar powered or magic? Neither Tikki nor Chat Noir had any more insight and there weren't any indications of needing batteries or having a charger so they kept the phones in the light every so often and only used them when they really needed to.

Now, she felt like she needed to leave a message.

She flipped open the phone and hit the button, ready to count out the rings until the 

”Hello?” Came the almost immediate reponse.

”Oh, hey! You’re still awake? Did I wake you up?”

”Yeah,” he replied, his voice a but rough. Was he sick?

”To which?”

”Honestly, milady, I tried to sleep early, but I woke up a few minutes ago feeling more awake than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

”That’s terrible! Are you feeling well?”

”My day job is going to keep me up really late tonight so even if I’m feline fine right now, it’s not going to last. I can probably take a cat nap before the bulk of it. Anyway, what’s up?”

“I was going to leave a message,” Marinette admitted. “It’s a bit personal- but I’m a bit glad you picked up. This isn’t exactly something I can talk about easily with normal people.”

”Normal people, you say? So I’m special? Special good or special bad?”

Marinette got the feeling that Chat Noir was being both serious and trying to lighten the mood. In the weird headspace of worry and doubt, plus the additional haze of sleepiness, she was glad he was there to at least hear her. To exist. To respond.

She was glad he was there.

”Special good this time, kitty. Um. It’s really a bit awkward. And I’m not really sure how to phrase it.”

”Go ahead.”

Marinette stared down at the street below the balcony. There were very few people out in the blocks she could see. And yet, he was there, wherever he was, supporting her. She would always appreciate that. They both had grown fond of this link to each other over the past year or so. Sometimes, they just needed a friend who really understood.

“Have you ever dated anyone?”

Silence.

More silence.

”Are you there? Does this thing have dead zones?”

He sighed.

”You don’t have to say anything.”

”No, I- it’s a bit complicated. You know I still have feelings for you. You know you were my first crush. My first love, actually, and I think there’s always going to be a bit of that.”

”But you’ve moved on?”

Another sigh. Yeah, this topic was bad for everyone involved.

”I can’t say that in good conscience. But I’m in a weird spot because of my day job. What are your running guesses for that, by the way?”

”Oh, the game? Um, top three, right?” They played this game occasionally where she would guess at the nature Chat Noir’s supposed day job. They started the game when they got the communicators, since they could finally anonymously coordinate with each other, and he felt the need to give reasons for his weird schedule.

”Exotic dancer-“

”You’ve guessed that already.”

”Shoot, that’s right. Bartender.”

”I’m not a barkeep but I  _did_ serve drinks for a publicity stunt before. Okay, not really a publicity stunt but my friend who’s a DJ-“

He stopped himself and tried to remember who else was at that party. That was the first issue. It was a  _party_. People knew about that. Especially since Nino had become a well-known DJ and that party wound up being pretty high-profile.

It was probably a good thing Marinette was too tired to pick up on the clue to a mutual friend. She would have realized she had attended a party as her civilian self with Chat Noir, also as his civillain self.

”Okay. So what else is there?” Marinette wondered aloud. “A model.”

Marinette could almost swear she could hear his breath hitch.

”But I bet you’re not very famous, are you? If you were, then you could bet I would recognize you for sure. You would be right up there with Adrien and I’d point you out and say, ‘Yep, right there. Standing right up there on that billboard next to Adrien Agreste is my partner, Chat Noir.’”

She could hear him let out a heavy sigh. She almost thought he’s said something but no, it was just angst or something.

”What,” she chuckled, “don’t tell me I’m right and you’re actually a model jealous of Adrien Agreste.”

”Honestly milady, I can tell you that is most certainly not the case.”

”But you didn’t deny you’re a model. What, do you do swimsuits?” She chuckled. “Or do you prefer a catsuit?”

If Marinette was being completely honest with herself, she would probably admit a few things. First, she would admit that she was glad she was laughing and in a good mood instead of psyching herself out. Second, she would admit that she loved teasing Chat Noir but only because she could trust the boundaries they had set over the years and would communicate if they ever crossed them. Third, she would admit that there was a part of her that wished she could see Chat Noir as a model for a few different reasons. Most importantly, she would probably admit that she loved this casual talk. She loved that he was there. She relied on him and he relied on her and there was simply nobody else in the world whom she could trust more.

There was definitely a bit of love there, hidden away at the corners, in the upturns of a smile, and the stories they had shared.

There was definitely a part of Marinette that truly did love her partner romantically as well as platonically.

As the wind gently rolled between the buildings and Marinette let her laughter fall out, somewhere in the back of her brain, she stuffed those thoughts back further than before. This was still not the time, thought the time may come just yet.

“Anyway, milady, why do you ask?”

”Hey! You still didn’t give me a yes or no answer.”

”It’s a but personal, but I don’t mind getting personal with you, bugaboo.”

She blew a raspberry.

”Okay, okay. On a more serious note, I’m dating someone for PR reasons right now.”

Marinette hadn’t expected an answer so frank.

”Oh. Really? How so?”

“What do you mean? We just say we’re dating and show up on each other’s social media occasionally.”

”But what do you mean that it’s for PR? Yours? Or theirs?”

”Theirs. Hers, actually. I’m dating- well, I’m saying that I’m dating- a well-known socialite who’s famous for a few reasons, but mostly that she’s rich and comes from a famous household. She needs me to be her beard because people, I mean, you know.”

”Like how Adrien Agreste is dating Chloe Bourgeois! But not exactly. She’s liked guys for the entirety of her life and I’ve never seen someone so straight in the entirety of  _my_ life.”

If only the person on the other side of the communicator knew his secret. Then he could say “Then it’s fucking working I guess!” But no, Adrien would sit there in the darkness of his spacious and lonely rich person room in his spacious and lonely rich person mansion, sitting in a comfortable bed in the greatest discomfort in what must have been at least a week of modeling underwear, underwear, and more underwear, taking a break to model swimsuits and even more underwear. Things had changed since his 18th birthday and he couldn’t exactly say it was completely for the better. He still couldn’t move out because of a mix of weird contract reasons and childhood emotional neglect and gaslighting trauma.

It would be so easy to reveal his secret, and it felt like Ladybug was so close to finding him out. And also so far from it. He didn’t know. It was weird.

”I guess that’s definitely,” he concurred, “a situation.”

Marinette let out a satisfied little noise.

Adrien continued, “So what’s up with this Adrien Agreste guy that has you mentioning him so much? Is he a friend? Does he know you?”

”That’s a bit personal.”

”Yeah, it’s personal to me, too!”

Wow, he really shouldn‘t have said that.

”Then you _are_ rivals in love! Ha!”

Wow, she really shouldn’t have said that.

”Did you just say ‘rivals in love’?”

”What? I don’t know what you’re balking atout! I mean, where are you taking the trout? I mean, incorrect!”

”Marinette?”

”I have no idea who that is! I’m hanging up now! Bye!”

That was bad.

As they both processes what was happening, all they could do was stare down at their communicators.

So here was the situation.

Adrien was fairly certain he knew who Ladybug was, and had a suspicion she was not just anyone, but was specifically Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The evidence was there, kind of. They were never in the same place at the same time, but granted, that didn’t help much because Paris was big. He couldn’t help but remember Marinette’s constant stuttering around him from when they were in school together, and hearing Ladybug’s last verbal stumblings felt like a blast from the past. Not only that, but she called Chat Noir and Adrien rivals in love.

That was probably the most important part. Rivals in love. The only time Adrien- or Chat Noir, for that matter- had ever gotten anywhere close to a real relationship in any capacity had been with either Ladybug or Marinette herself.

Over the years, Adrien had grown to understand that Marinete saw him as more than a friend. And, of course, Ladybug had somehow, for some reason, always been partial to him. It would just be too easy, but Adrien couldn’t deny that those were the two who came closest to making him think about love, in its forms, giving and receiving in turn.

Of course, there were some things Adrien couldn’t just overlook. Marinette had never actually voiced her feelings towards him, and he had on occasion expressed in no uncertain terms that he saw her as a friend. They had grown apart now, and spoke less and less frequently, and was fairly sure she was over him by now.

But Adrien also couldn’t overlook how his own feelings for Ladybug had lasted through the years. He couldn’t be sure what she felt. He wasn’t even entirely sure how he felt himself.

He should call Marinette. Not now, though. If he was right, he didn't want to scare her. If he was wrong, then Marinette was probably sleeping, and even if not, he would be disrupting an old acquaintance that he had grown apart from and probably had no real business calling at 3 in the morning.

There was a lot to consider, but as Adrien confirmed on his phone that all his timers were in place, he settled himself in his most comfortable sleeping position and tried to sleep. There would be time to deal with all this. Later.


	4. wow ... these characters are using critical thinking... that's new.... it's good........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these dorks. I really do.  
> Gosh I wish they could share more than one brain cell.

Yeah, right, like he could sleep after  _that_. Dry eyes stared at the wall as Adrien flung his communicator to a corner of his bed.

Here's what Adrien was going to  _not_ do. He was _not_ going to give the girl he had been in love with for like a quarter of his life a heart attack.

Hopefully.

So he had to think. That was annoying considering the hour and the fact that he would have to deal with actual business today, but still.

He wanted to talk to Ladybug again and calm her down. That was for sure.  Which meant he was  _not_ going to call her. Not now. And he wanted to make sure she didn't think he knew who she was.

So here's what Adrien  _was_ going to do.

First, he would wait until morning. Okay, it was already kind of morning. He would wait until normal person hours of operation. Yes.

Then, he would call Ladybug using the bugphone. Or text? No, call. He had to do this once and do it right.

What could he say? Think about it.

"I'm sorry I confused you with- wait, no. _Hi_ , it's me," Adrien practiced. "No, who else is it going to be?"

He tossed himself over, hooking his arm around the spare pillow and spreading himself out like a starfish. Maybe the more convoluted his position, the better he could think.

He tried again. "Hey, it's the cat!" That was cute, right? He could do that? It wouldn't make the cringe compilation Ladybug must have mentally filled with the greatest hits of his terrible puns?

Adrien squished the pillow into his chest and face and kicked his legs and rolled around because there was just no way he was going to get any more rest after _this_ giant fuckup.

"Hm," Adrien vocalized, after still insufficient rollage. "Hmmm," he needed to get his story straight. It couldn't be that hard.

"Hmmmhey it's me! The cat. Sorry for weird mix-up yesterday! Uh, before. No, last night. Wait, yeah before."

He squished the pillow some more. Try again.

"Hey, it's me! The cat. Sorry for all the confusion before! I thought you sounded like someone I knew - no. A friend of a friend."

He needed as much separation as possible from Marinette, as like, a concept. He was pretty sure it was her. Considering the fact that her mannerisms were still very easy to spot even after like 5 years, and the fact that he never saw her and Ladybug in the same place at the same time without some weird time travel involved even though everyone in his class back in middle school got akumatized at least once, and Ladybug's reaction to that specific name, and seriously how did he not know that before, like, honestly, it was right there.

In other news, he still had to finish making up his little speech to Ladybug. And that meant lying. Which was bad. But also something he needed to do. Which was bad. But he at least wouldn't be face-to-face with her. Which was bad.

Okay, so maybe he just had to shut up and talk.

"Hey, it's the cat! Sorry fur the confusion last night. You reminded me of a friend of a friend I met once. She doesn't even live in Paris anymore, so don't worry, your secret's still safe! I'm sorry for scaring you like that. I know  _I_ get a little crazy late at night, too, but that's okay - I won't hold it against nya!"

That could work. With a final groan like a mummy coming to undeath, Adrien rose up and deposited his pillow, not in the mood but wanting the coldest of showers.

-

Meanwhile, Marinette was ready to fling herself into the sun.

Did Chat Noir buy that she wasn't Marinette - uh, herself? Gosh, this was going to get confusing.

Her palms began to sweat and she could feel her heart beating with a wild force of adrenaline. She sat down, feeling the cold breeze of early mornings or maybe late nights. Tucking her knees close to her chest, she squished her head in her hands as though grounding her head could actually ground her thoughts somehow.

"This is a disaster," she explained to nobody in particular. "I'm got. I got found out. This is a tragedy and I wrote it myself. I'm screwed. I'm screwed - I'm screwed-I'mscrewedImscrewedImscrewed-"

There wasn't much that she could say as her mind raced to every little implication of this horrible nightmare. If Chat Noir knew who she was, then that meant he  _knew who she was_. He knew her and her idiosyncrasies enough to recognize her stuttering habit when she got flustered. That meant he  _knew_ her.

And so maybe she knew  _him_.

"-I'm screwed. I'm screwed I'm so entirely screwed.-"

Then who  _was_ it? Who could it be?

That was probably the scariest question of all. Who could Chat Noir be?

She had to find a way out of this.

She bit her tongue and stood up. She couldn't be so childish. This was how people got akumatized. Of all people, she couldn't do that. She couldn't let that happen.

Years ago, she realized that if she thought she could find a way out, she just wouldn't get akumatized. Somewhere down the line, this train of thought morphed into something so similar it was an insult to the original. If she thought she could find a way out, she wouldn't get akumatized. That much was still very clear. But rather than the road to this point be straightforward and presented with levity stemming from the freedom that came with the knowledge that all could change and improve, the path was convoluted and cold. All Marinette needed to hold onto was the fact that she would stay awake and starve and talk and worm and writhe until she figured out a goddamn solution. That's how it was in college. That's how it was in the fight against Hawkmoth, which had lasted  _half a decade_.

She needed a drink. Then Marinette would somehow lull herself to sleep. Tonight was bad. It wasn't a time to be healthy or care. She had work to do in the morning. She would fix this. Later.


	5. this is the chapter where you realize that this is actually a slow burn fic

Marinette woke up in the morning to her alarm, and sleepily registered a few moments too late that Tikki was staring at her in clear disappointment.

"Morning, Tikki."

"Good morning, Hangover Marinette."

"Hey!"

Although she had drunk herself back to sleep last night, Marinette made sure not to go overboard. Only a drink and a half was enough to put her a bit more at ease. She had a pretty low tolerance because she hated to drink and had done so maybe twice before, ever, not counting New Years' celebrations, which called for quite literally a sip of champagne, and that was it.

She was pretty sure that the chronic exhaustion didn't help her to exactly  _not_ feel terrible, though.

Marinette's mind was racing. It often did that, but not always so early in the morning. She needed to think of a plan, and fast. She vaguely remembered what she had said, and was frankly a bit angry at herself for not remembering the exact nature of the conversation and how Chat Noir had somehow managed to guess her name - and probably her entire identity - correctly. She needed to find a way out. Maybe if she flung her communicator into the air, the situation could be at least half fixed. But she really needed to get through two orders of business.

One. She needed to find Chat Noir.

Two. She needed to kill Chat Noir.

That seemed about right.

Before that, she needed to put on her pants, though. In true Marinette fashion, she had worn basically the same pajamas for the past decade or so. The only thing she changed was really what she needed to change because it was part of her job - well, it would be. She didn't exactly have the money to go for designer clothes, and she certainly didn't have the time anymore to make new garments all the time, but with her habits all pretty well formed and her exercise pretty regular due to constant akuma activity, she had stayed the same size for years now and had at least stockpiled a decent wardrobe for someone aiming to be a fashion designer.

Marinette found the black slacks she was looking for. They were high waisted and flared out at the bottom, with three dark brown buttons adorning the middle, also serving to actually close the pants. She tucked in a red blouse, and realized how she was going with Ladybug's color scheme again. She kept doing this, subconsciously going for the red and black whenever she needed some extra confidence.

"Whatever, I'll just leave it."

She had already basically announced her identity. She might as well go all out.

Marinette pulled her hair into a high bun and undid the top two buttons of her shirt. She might as well.

She slipped on a dark brown jacket and reached for her brown-tinted shades. She didn't exactly have a hangover, but she didn't feel great either. Rubbing a hand into a stiff muscle at the back of her neck, she thought about all the work she had to do today. She needed some strong coffee first. She could splurge once. She might as well.

She could-

"Marinette, your phone!"

"Huh?"

She looked around and realized suddenly that she was lost in thought  _again_ and had failed to notice how the spotted communicator had been ringing.

That was probably a bad sign.

She sped over to the phone, which had somehow made its way back up to the balcony last night.

She could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears as she picked up and greeted too loudly, "Hello?"

"Hey! It's the cat. Sorry about all the confusion last night. You just reminded me of a friend of a friend, but she doesn't even live in France anymore! Can you even imagine? Sorry for making you worry like that, bugaboo."

Marinette felt like she was about to crash. She let out a shaky breath and her hands trembled as the early morning sun beat down on her, tired and sleepy and all kinds of exhausted.

"Are you serious? Are you sure you're not even a little bit - anyway. I have no idea where you pulled that name from but I'll have you know that I-" she started, but fumbled, saved by a sudden spark of an idea, "- I mean, you just startled me because I happen to know someone by a similar name. I thought you said  _Anette_! She's a neighbor. I have no idea what name you actually said before. Don't think you have anything on me, kitty!"

Marinette was well aware of the fact that it was a dead giveaway when people were lying because they would give out too many details. Right now, though, that was totally not even a part of the question.

"I'm being completely honesty, milady," came the quick reply. "I have no clue who you could be."

"Okay. Good."

"Yep! Great!"

"Yeah. Great."

What else was there to say?

"Enjoy the rest of your day, then, milady!"

And he cut the line.

Marinette wasn't entirely sure if he'd bought that or if she bought what he said but she wanted to not think about it so she decided to leave well enough alone. She needed to leave. Classes started in an hour and she still needed to finish some work.

-

"So?" Plagg asked, drawn out and teasing as usual. He had awoken after the whole reveal debacle and Adrien had filled him in before the call. Adrien clenched the communicator in his hand, his mind surprisingly blank now that the majority of the emotionally taxing work was done. "How was it? Did she call you out for lying through your teeth?"

"No. I think she actually believes me."

"I'm sorry," Plagg said, comically bringing one arm - flipper? - up to his ear. "You think  _who_ actually believes you?"

"I think that... Ladybug believes what I told her."

Plagg snickered. "Again.  _Who_?"

"Fine," Adrien turned to look at Plagg, finally peeling his eyes off the phone. "I think Marinette believes what I told her."

"And this particular M is MDC?"

"What?"

"I can't tell you the actual name of the holder of the ladybug miraculous so please, humor me. I've wanted to say something for ages."

"MDC? Marinette from middle school? Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Her parents run a popular bakery? What else do you need me to say?"

Plagg flew up to Adrien's eye level. "How about this? She's Ladybug," Plagg continued for him, "She's the girl who's had a crush on you almost since you met." Plagg laughed as Adrien's eyes widened. "She's your so-called  _first love_ ," he mocked.

"Seriously?"

"About the first love part or about the her being Ladybug and having a crush on you since forever which apparently hasn't gone away from what I keep hearing from Tikki?"

This was quite a chunk of information.

"So Ladybug is Marinette."

"I think we've established that, yes. Do you need do go over the rest?"

Adrien flung himself onto the couch, jumping over the backside, toppling a pillow on the bounce back.

"Okay. So Marinette, who has liked me for the past half a _decade_ is Ladybug, who  _I_ have liked for the past half a decade."

"Yes. That took you a while but I'm glad you're picking it up."

"One more thing," Adrien considered something he didn't know if he wanted to ask. He eyed an action figure that somehow got stuck between the final couch cushion and the armrest. The paint had started to chip so he'd reapplied the mask and blush, the skin, the suit. Ultimately, after enough reapplications, he realized he couldn't even remember what the original toy looked like.

"Go ahead," Plagg said, the smugness in his voice and affect reaching what would be critical mass if there was any potential limit to his smugness.

"How long have you known?"

"Do you remember that one time you detransformed in front of Ladybug inside of that shipping container because your middle school principal had gone completely apeshit?"

"Hm. And  _you_ kept it in for this long?"

"Don't worry," Plagg replied, palpable smugness still increasing in mass after deciding he would take that as a complement regarding his stealth and slyness. "I've compiled a mighty stockpile of jabs in these past few years."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much shorter than I want it to be, but every time I go to sleep I can hear a crunching sound in the distance because it's always crunch time and I'm not going to be able to get out as much content as I would like. So here you go. Short installment, but a less than 6 months break between chapters.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are very much appreciated!  
> Hope you enjoyed the story so far!


	6. my fight or flight response has been active for the past 6 years

It was not very often that Alya felt like she didn't have a handle on things.

And she wasn't in trouble now. There was no dramatic twist. That was just a fact.

She got up in the morning, showered, and changed into the clothes she'd prepared the night before. She made herself breakfast and started up the coffee maker. She woke up the twins and made sure they ate and dressed snug for the afternoon chill. She checked her email and read the news and made her necessary updates to the Ladyblog. There were set things she needed to do and she was entirely capable of doing every single one of them.

So she was usually the one to call at the first sign of trouble.

It was a very clear choice that would have made a lot of sense to make if Adrien didn't know for a fact that she had written fluff about himself and Ladybug.

So Nino was the next best choice.

"Hey, dude."

"Hi, Nino," Adrien spoke too loudly into the receiver, voice cracking. He paced around with his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, walking with half a pant leg on in the empty changing room he’d been assigned for the photoshoot this morning. "I figured out who the true love of my life is and now I don't know what to do."

"Adrien, I have a girlfriend. I’ll have to ask Alya about this."

"No! I mean, I know!" Adrien let out a small grunt, not knowing how to respond to the genuine tenderness in Nino's voice, continuing, "Not you!"

Crackling laughter broke through the shoddy cell connection.

Adrien wasn't exactly in a laughing mood. His schedule was packed, as usual, and as expected. He had this photoshoot to complete, then another photoshoot, then a date that was basically a photoshoot because it was part of his job to take Chloe out and pretend to date her.

By this point, it was fairly clear to the public that he wasn’t exactly on the market. Granted, it wasn’t for the reasons people thought, but being a beard was enough to keep most rabid fans out of his hair.

It was a blessing and a curse. Being off the market meant being left alone. But being off the market meant being left alone.

He checked the business hours for Marinette’s parents’ boulangerie, and he would be free from the mechanical eyes of the press much later than their closing time. It was just his luck, really.

So, like usual, maybe Adrien couldn’t go. Chat Noir, on the other hand, could probably swing by and see if Marinette was out on ber balcony being moody and wistful.

Adrien had kept up with most of his class, enough to know where they all or almost all ended up. Alya had gotten into the best journalism program in the city; Max had gone abroad to a big-name university to start some grad program early; Nathaniel and Marc were working on a TV adaptation of one of their most popular comics. He knew generally what everyone was up to. Of course, he remembered specifically that Marinette got into the same design school his father had attended.

A knock came at the door.

”Just a moment!” Adrien sighed. One could only quickchange so quick. He turned his attention back to Nino.

”I figured out who I like but now I need to know what to do with it. There’s no way she likes me back, but-“

”Won’t your fake girlfriend be devastated when she finds out you’re going to have a real girlfriend?”

Adrien considered it. How could he tell Chloe that she had a crush on / maybe wanted to be Marinette, of all people?

”She might combust.”

Nino laughed it off. “Dude, just focus on- actually, do you know who it is?”

”Yeah, I think so.”

”You said you thought so before, but are you sure.”

”Of the love part, yeah.”

”No, dude,” Nino huffed, “Their identity. Like, you’re not getting catfished, are you?”

If anything, Adrien just got un-catfished.

“Yeah.”

”Then the next part’s the fun part, dude! You gotta learn to be their friend and figure out if you’re actually compatible and stuff.”

Another knock came at the door. Adrien grumbled and muffled the receiver.

”Plagg, make yourself useful.”

”I won’t.”

Plagg then flew off, and Adrien heard in short succession, a few yelps, a cat screeching, and something rolling across the ground. Plagg promptly returned.

”Sorry Nino. Stuff got a little crazy out there,” he explained, petting behind Plagg’s ears.

”My point is, dude, get close to this person, like, emotionally and stuff, and if it happens, it happens.”

”But the thing is, we used to be friends, but not really great friends, and honestly she might hate me or something. It’s been years since we’ve been close.”

Adrien could hear Nino borrowing The Alya Smirk as he said, ”Is this someone I know? This sounds like someone I know. Maybe someone at that party we all went to-“

“Oh no, an akuma.” Adrien deadpanned. “Gotta blast!”

“Later, man.”

”Bye, Nino.” 

Adrien sighed and walked into the madness outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I last updated this in February. It’s now July. Sorry about the radio silence...  
> But it’s been less than six months between chapters! I promise I’ll try to get these out with shorter breaks. Again, this is another shorter chapter, but it’s here and I’ll try to continue this fic, at least. There is plot to write, after all.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are super appreciated and get you on the Nice List (if the ml writers ever decide for sure if santa does or doesn’t exist)


	7. and they were flatmates! oh good heavens they were flatmates...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a bottle episode

It had been a long two photoshoots after that. Adrien wanted to do very little besides sit in the backseat and take a nap. On most days he would, but he had far too much on his mind to fall asleep, even if he was tired and had definitely underslept. He couldn't even talk to Plagg at times like this with Nathalie around and his bodyguard driving.

He opened up the Ladyblog to see a new batch of recommendations and looked for Alya's newest fic. Apparently, it was a Ladybug/Rena Rouge H/C coffee shop AU with background Rena Rouge/Carapace.

Oh,  _spicy_. That seemed fun.

But then he thought about it for more than two seconds.

Where could he even begin with that? There he was, reading a fic about the girl he liked, written by her best friend who idolized her and had run a blog about her for years, and who also probably liked her at least at _some_ point as her superhero self but also possibly as her civilian self, and that was also about Alya and her actual boyfriend, who had also liked Marinette at some point, and Adrien was fairly certain there was something mutual between himself and Nino  _also_ , which of course begged the question of what about him and  _Alya_ , and additionally what did _Marinette_ think about this, because it was a lot and he needed to talk about it, like, right now. And confess. He should do that, too.

He couldn't help but click the link to the fic. He needed to know what it was about.

He read the note at the top of the page: it was the usual, with a link to the Ladyblog and Alya's socials, but this time she also thanked her beta reader.

Beta reader?

 

 

> _"_ Thanks to my new beta reader, the actual best bestie ever, reader of words, baker of goods, designer of that really cute shirt she posted on insta. (You should follow her >:3c )"

 

He turned off his phone and watched the windows as roads slowly passed by.

 

It seemed to take much longer than it should have, but eventually they reached the restaurant. It was one of the best in Paris, but Adrien was actually fairly tired of the scene. He had, quite honestly, gotten fairly annoyed at getting shuttled a few times a month to these fake dates with Chloe. They were instructed to smile for the cameras and to speak highly of the restaurant online or in interviews, and to alternate between holding hands entering the place and hugging to part, and hugging when they met and holding hands out the door. Apparently, it was enough to fool the media, and enough to strengthen the brands they supposedly represented.

He got out of the car and promised to keep his schedule. One thing at a time. He just needed to get past this date. Emotional stressors and homework could wait for a few hours until he got home.

He met Chloe at the door, and they hugged for his count of "one, two."

They got inside with a few lightbulb flashes at the corners of their eyes.

They started out talking about their studies. Chloe mentioned how nice it was to get teachers who understood the meaning of celebrity, boasting about how hard it was to major in political science and how smart she was for doing so well. Adrien joked that he was glad Sabrina was getting such a good education but that he . They often caught up like this, paparazzi or fans outside, some of the leisurely rich with their wandering ears inside.

It had always been a lot easier for Adrien to talk face-to-face. Maybe it was the aggressively sheltered upbringing, but it was always easier to figure out what people meant when he could hear their voice, at least. It wasn't that he couldn't read people. It was just that he had his doubts that people would like him and wouldn't want to take advantage of him. Unfortunately, it was something he'd learned over the years. Sometimes he just made himself too easy to use.

In theory, then, Adrien knew he should like these dates as normal friend hang-out times. Chloe had a tendency to dominate conversations over text and on the phone, and he could see here right there. Of course, the one hangup was that the most important things he wanted to say face-to-face, and since they could only ever meet in public, he could never actually talk about the most important things, except in code.

Since he had relationships on his mind, he really wanted at least to show he cared about hers.

Adrien decided he would build up his courage and strike once the drinks arrived.

"So how have things been going with your flatmate?" Adrien asked.

Chloe picked up her wine glass and swirled it, looking at it and contemplating for a moment before replying, "She's well. The _apartment_ is doing good." She took a sniff of the wine, and, satisfied with the quality, continued, "She's actually been thinking of getting a dog. A big one - like a Rottweiler or a German Shepherd or something."

Adrien cocked his head. "Don't you think it's a little _early_ to be getting a dog?"

"Not  _now_ , obviously. She would just _one day_ like to have one. And like I would let some slobbering fleabag into my house to munch and drool all over my shoes. Sabrina just thinks we can keep that option in mind in the future. She's always wanted one." She scoffed and flipped her hair. "Don't tell me you're jealous. Actually, do. No, don't."

Adrien couldn't help but wonder if he actually was jealous. On one hand, the Chloe and Sabrina had always been very close, and this was a relationship years in the making. In fact, Sabrina was the closest person to Chloe outside of her pseudo-family and Adrien "The Childhood Friend" himself. On the other hand, he had no idea how Sabrina and Chloe's relationship worked, considering he had only known there to be kind of a weird power balance thing going on and he'd always assumed Sabrina liked Chloe for her status and they'd always been seen by the public as something kind of like a leader and sidekick and -

\- actually, Adrien figured he shouldn't really doubt the two of them. All things considering, if he didn't doubt his own feelings, he had no reason to doubt Sabrina's. He still couldn't tell if he was jealous, though. Of course, he did really like the sound of stability, comfort, basic communication. Oh boy, he was really yearning now.

"I'm happy for you," Adrien stated, and watched the slightest of smiles flash across Chloe's face before she hid herself behind sips of her drink. "Sounds like you've found an _apartment_ you want to be in."

She set the glass to the side and replied, "Yeah, I don't think I'll want to move. I could - won't, though."

Their food arrived, and that was the end of that.

 

They walked out of the restaurant, hands loosely together, and they were driven back into their worrying minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point I was thinking of making Adrien a business major but then I realized he was too good of a person to do that to. So my next best idea was to make him a math/stats major. I would like to formally apologize to everyone for planting the seeds of Business Major!Adrien in your heads but I needed to confess my sin.
> 
> And re: Chloe and Sabrina living together, the cover story is that since they're studying in the same university, Chloe was like "you might as well" and the press was like wooooah she's so generous she's turned over a new leaf this is great it's character development, but actually, everyone who knows her is like..... you just wanted to live with your girlfriend didn't you.


End file.
